Ace High
by Clara Barton
Summary: Trowa Barton survives the first day of The Sandrock's Poker Tournament A follow-up to Two of a Kind


A/N: This is for Amberly - I hope you feel better!

A/N2: Thank you always to Ro for beta reading and supporting me through the complete lack of order of any kind

A/N3: So I've started the Sandrock series on AO3, where I will put each of these fics, since they will all belong to the same universe. Let me know whose POV you would like to read next.

Warnings: language, smut

Pairings: 2x3

 _Ace High_

Trowa wasn't unfamiliar with feeling like an idiot.

But it didn't happen often, and certainly not on _this_ level in quite a while.

 _Good luck in the first round tomorrow_.

He had said that, had actually said those words to the gorgeous man who had thoroughly trounced him and then so _very_ thoroughly fucked him. The man who had only introduced himself as Duo. Who had neglected to mention anything about being _Duo Maxwell,_ the Internet poker sensation.

Duo _fucking_ Maxwell.

Trowa had never been much for internet poker. As good as he was with the cards, he was better with the _people_. And it was hard to play that game when you weren't face to face.

He knew who Duo Maxwell was. Had read about his exponential rise to glory, and had heard that he would be in town for this, that he was going to try his hand at live poker.

And if last night had been a preview…

The tournament had started with nearly fifteen hundred entrants. With ten to a table, the hundred and fifty odd tables had been spaced throughout four of the large ballrooms at The Sandrock.

Trowa hadn't seen Duo - had, in fact, only recognized Zechs Merquise because of the entourage following him around as the players found their assigned seats just after noon to begin the tournament.

By mid-afternoon, five hundred players were out, and Trowa, as he collected his chips and moved to a new table, felt like a bit of an idiot looking for Duo.

He didn't see him.

It wasn't until ten that night, when the field had been reduced to just five hundred players and only a handful of games were still in progress, that Trowa finally laid eyes on him.

Last night, Duo had been casual and sexy as hell - fitted black t-shirt and black jeans slung low on his hips, hair tied back in a loose tail.

 _Today,_ Duo looked anything but casual.

There wasn't a set dress code at these tournaments, and most players went for clean enough and comfortable for the first few days. It wasn't until the last two days, when the number of players had been reduced and there were only a dozen or so tables - or, in the end, just one - that people started to dress up.

Unless you were Zechs Merquise, who spent every second of his life looking like an Armani commercial, or Hilde Schbeiker, who always looked like she was just stopping in on her way to a dance club.

Even Dorothy Catalonia went with comfort _-_ stylish, expensive comfort _-_ instead of her tight black dresses the first few days.

Trowa himself had gone for his standard start of tournament uniform with jeans, fitted t-shirt and a cardigan.

He still remembered his first major tournament, the sneer on Zechs's face when he smoothed a hand over the lapel of Trowa's cardigan during one of the breaks and asked if he had escaped from the library.

Duo, on the other hand…

Trowa had to stare at the vision walking down one of the outside aisles around the tables.

He was still in all-black, but the slim cut suit, dress shirt and tie projected the exact opposite image of the backroom shark he had become last night.

Even his hair was different, pulled back into a tight braid and tossed over one shoulder.

He looked damned good, but he also looked untouchable - a shadow just barely restrained and impossible to reach.

When Duo caught sight of him, his full lips curving into a knee-weakening smirk of delight, Trowa made absolutely no effort to hide his appreciation of the transformation.

"Oh my _God_! Duo! Duo Maxwell!"

A cluster of scantily-clad women practically tackled Duo, playing cards and sharpies in their hands and tits shoved in his face as-

 _Maxwell_?

It had taken a minute for Trowa to put it together, to connect the face and name with the near legendary upstart sensation.

But then he put it together and he felt like an idiot.

Duo Maxwell, the guy most bookies were putting odds on winning the entire tournament.

And Trowa hadn't had a clue who he was.

Duo managed to wade through the crowd of admirers, signing and hugging and posing for selfies as he maneuvered.

And then he was standing in front of Trowa, indigo eyes dancing and that damn smirk on his perfect face.

"Hey."

"Hi."

Duo arched an eyebrow at his tone.

"Uh… rough day at the tables?"

Trowa rolled his eyes. It had been a comically _easy_ day at the tables.

"Not at all."

"Okay… um, did I do something wrong? Because a minute ago you were looking at me totally differently than you are now. And, for the record, I preferred the other look."

He was sassy, more confident than he had been yesterday.

But why wouldn't he be? He was basking in the glow of admirers and a victorious day and the knowledge that he had _played_ Trowa.

"You didn't mention your last name before."

Duo frowned for a moment, and then his cheeks flushed. He had the decency to look a little guilty.

Trowa watched him scratch at the back of his neck, a fatal tell that Trowa had only seen him use once, the previous night, and had discounted as an itch and a coincidence when Duo had then bluffed his way to winning the hand with trip nines.

"I, um… really didn't think it mattered."

"I see."

For all that he was an exceptional poker player, it was clear that Duo was shit at lying.

"Look, I'm sorry. I just… Hell, I was there first and I had no idea _you_ were going to show up and stick your tongue in my mouth, and you know what, next time if you wanna compare life stories and tournament winnings we can, but it's not like I was… trapping you or lying or anything. I didn't plan _any_ of that."

Duo looked sincere, and genuinely regretful.

It didn't change the fact that Trowa had fucked one of his toughest opponents.

Well. There was no unringing that bell.

"Is there… Can I make it up to you?"

Trowa arched an eyebrow at him, and Duo offered up a rueful grin.

He considered his options.

He could - and should - walk away. There was no reason to get close to Duo, no reason to open himself up even the slightest bit to another professional poker player and risk Duo using that against him.

Or he could invite Duo up to his room for that rematch.

Duo fiddled with the end of his tie, and Trowa wondered if the gesture and the slightly anxious, hopeful expression on Duo's face was manufactured.

"I'm in 4202."

Duo stared at him for a moment, and then bit down on the corner of his lower lip. It was a move that was as endearing as it was sexy.

"I'm in 1736? If we're trading information here."

Trowa smirked.

"I need to shower and change into something I haven't lived in for the past ten hours. Meet me in an hour?"

Duo's grin was slow and sensuous, and Trowa felt heat pool in his belly at just that look.

"What kind of dress code are we talking?"

Trowa had to chuckle.

"The kind that doesn't get you picked up by security, but that I can get off of you as soon as you walk in the door."

The look in Duo's eyes made it clear that he appreciated Trowa's plans.

"That, that I can do."

He winked at Trowa and then walked away, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers and a devilish look thrown over his shoulder for Trowa's benefit before he was mobbed by another group of fans.

Trowa had to sign his own share of autographs and pose for photos on his way out, and by the time he made it up to his room, he barely had time to shower and put on one of the ludicrously plush hotel robes that room service had provided.

Duo was punctual, knocking on Trowa's door exactly sixty minutes after they had parted.

Trowa opened the door to find Duo holding out a single long-stemmed red rose.

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

"As an apology for last night?" Duo offered.

Trowa accepted the flower.

"You just happened to have a rose on hand?"

"Nah. There was a display in the lobby and I snagged one." Duo shrugged and grinned, mischievous and somehow managing to look both adorable and sensual at the same time.

Trowa was fairly certain that, despite having dry hair, Duo had also managed to get in a shower. He looked refreshed, and he had changed into a black tank and black jeans that Trowa recognized from last night.

He was back to being casual, backroom, fuckable Duo.

Duo reached out and ran one finger along the plush lapel of the navy robe.

"This is nice. If I'd had one in my room, I might've gone this route too."

Trowa snorted. The image of Duo Maxwell, casually walking the halls of The Sandrock and riding the elevator up to the penthouse level in a bathrobe seemed to fall in line with everything Trowa had heard said about the other poker player.

There was so much gossip about Duo - claims that he partied it up every night and spent his winnings on a glamorous lifestyle. And maybe he did.

They also called him the Grim Reaper, his internet poker tag, in reference to his ability to take out competition without any signs of remorse.

Trowa wasn't enough of a fool to believe that the man he had met just over twenty-four hours ago wasn't savvy enough to present himself exactly as he wanted. He doubted Duo was the wild child he was made out to be, but he wasn't ready to discount the other man's cold-bloodedness towards his opponents.

And Trowa was an opponent.

"Coming in?" He stepped to the side, making the invitation more obvious.

Duo walked into the foyer and whistled.

"Wow. My room didn't come with all this either."

Duo looked a little overwhelmed by the penthouse suite.

Trowa could sympathize.

"Perks of knowing the owner," he muttered. Quatre had insisted, and Trowa wasn't anywhere close to an ascetic. If Quatre wanted to comp him a penthouse, he would take it.

"Damn. I gotta find me a hotel owner."

Trowa had absolutely no intention of introducing Duo to Quatre, but then again, it seemed only logical that Quatre would make the rounds and get to know his celebrity guests. And if Duo won on Sunday night, Quatre would be the one handing him the five-million dollar check.

Duo turned away from the admittedly distracting view and smirked at Trowa.

"So, you mentioned something about getting me out of my clothes as soon as I walked in the door?"

Whatever else he was or wasn't, Duo Maxwell was a damn good lay. And there was no reason for Trowa not to enjoy _that_ at least.

He crossed to the other man and reached for the hem of his tank. Trowa ran his fingers against the smooth skin of Duo's belly and smirked at Duo's indrawn breath.

"I did, didn't I?"

He brushed his lips over Duo's, feeling that same intoxicating thrill from last night. Damn, but kissing Duo felt good.

The way Duo parted his lips, grinning even as he kissed back and teased at Trowa's mouth. Impish and greedy.

Trowa tugged the shirt over Duo's head. The fabric momentarily separated them, but as soon as the shirt was over his head, Duo was tilting back up towards Trowa, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around Trowa's shoulders and hauling him down.

They worked together to pull off Duo's jeans, and Trowa let out a very satisfied groan at the discovery that Duo hadn't bothered with underwear.

Duo stepped out of the jeans and groaned himself when Trowa palmed his half-hard cock. The smooth flesh stirred under his touch.

Cathy had said something, last night, some cutting remark about skipping foreplay. She had been wrong - Trowa considered all three hours of the game last night as foreplay.

Tonight, however…

He stepped back, and Duo made a frustrated sound.

"What-"

"I want to look at you."

Duo looked momentarily uneasy, and Trowa saw his hands clench into fists before he forced himself to relax.

"Yeah, well, here I am…"

"Mm." There he was indeed.

Duo was nearly a head shorter than Trowa, his frame lean and wiry. He had only faint muscle definition, but Trowa enjoyed watching the play of skin as Duo shifted under his gaze.

"Okay, if you've looked your fill-

"I haven't."

"-it's my turn."

Trowa arched an eyebrow, but Duo tugged at the robe, loosening the belt and pushing it off Trowa's shoulders until it fell to the floor behind him.

Duo hummed appreciatively at the sight of Trowa's naked body.

"Jesus, Barton, it's not even fair how gorgeous you are."

Trowa snorted a laugh and hauled Duo against him.

"Don't pretend you don't know exactly how stunning you are."

Duo shrugged.

"I know it's not painful to look at me, but you…" Duo smoothed his hands up Trowa's arms, squeezing his biceps as he went. "You've got all this going on. The deck is totally stacked in your favor."

Duo grinned and shifted his hands to Trowa's chest. He traced over the King of Hearts he had tattooed above his own and then pinched the nipple.

Trowa hissed at the sensation, the momentary twinge of pain heightening his arousal.

Duo looked up at him, still grinning, and then lowered his head. He kissed the abused flesh, tongue laving at the hard nub momentarily before he sucked on it.

Fuck. That felt good.

So did Duo's hands, roving over Trowa's torso and hips, moving down to squeeze his ass and bring their bodies closer together.

He could feel Duo's erection against his own, the hard flesh rubbing against him and offering up some much needed friction made Trowa groan again.

Duo's bent head was far too tempting, and Trowa ran his hands through Duo's hair. He had freed it from the tight braid before coming to Trowa's hotel room, and the strands fell around the shorter man's shoulders like a cape, brown, red and gold shimmering between his fingers.

He coaxed Duo's head back up for another kiss. He almost laughed at the way Duo's tongue tangled with his own, a playful dance that was nevertheless deeply erotic.

"So, does this place have a bedroom, or does the penthouse not come with one of those?" Duo asked, breathless and sloe-eyed.

"Upstairs," Trowa answered, lips pressed against Duo's cheek and moving towards his ear. He remembered Duo had been particularly sensitive there last night.

Sure enough, when Trowa bit down on Duo's earlobe, the other man shuddered and clutched at him.

" _Fuck_. Up- upstairs? Now might be a good time to relocate. While I can still walk."

Trowa chuckled, but he eased away from Duo.

"I'm pretty sure I could carry you."

"Yeah, and let me tell you all the ways I do _not_ want to be treated."

Trowa made a mental note of that and instead held out his hand.

"Is this acceptable?"

Duo lifted both eyebrows.

"I'm not going to get lost following you up the stairs."

"Maybe I just want an excuse to touch you."

Duo rolled his eyes, but he held out his hand and allowed Trowa to lead him up the stairs, past two empty bedrooms which inspired Duo to ask where the rest of Trowa's harem was, and to the master bedroom.

Duo let out a low whistle.

"Damn, Barton. When you say you _know_ the owner, is it in the Biblical sense? Is this like… Are you a kept man?"

Trowa snorted a laugh. It was exactly what he had said to Quatre when the man had shown him the penthouse two days ago. He had looked at the _giant_ bed that dominated the room and then glanced back at Quatre.

 _Am I supposed to invite you to join me in that, or do you invite me?_

Quatre had flushed and stammered, and it had taken Heero, smirking and muttering something that sounded a _lot_ like 'I told you', to get the three of them in the bed together.

Trowa pushed aside his memories of that night. As enjoyable as it had been, he had more than enough to think about with Duo, here and now.

"I'm not a kept man," Trowa assured him. Despite what had happened the other night, he and Quatre hadn't been involved for years. Not since they had had a fight about that very thing and Trowa had walked out.

"Good, cuz I've got all kinds of plans for you, that bed, and me."

Trowa arched an eyebrow at Duo's smirk.

"Such as?"

Duo walked them back towards the bed and used both hands to push Trowa backwards onto it.

He let himself fall, and Duo climbed up to straddle his hips.

"I think we've been here before," he said.

Duo chuckled and leaned down to kiss him.

"Yeah. A little more room to work with this time."

Trowa had to agree with that, and decided to take advantage of it.

He rolled them over and pulled Duo's hands away from his torso.

With his hair spread out on the white comforter, his skin flushed and eyes swollen, Duo looked like some kind of debauched god.

Trowa positioned Duo's hands on the bed above his head, trapping them there with one of his own.

"You never let me finish before," he pointed out.

"Finish what?"

"Looking at you."

Duo rolled his eyes, but he didn't try to pull away or move.

Instead, he relaxed into the bed and sighed.

"Alright. Look away."

Maybe, Trowa decided, he should do more than just look.

With his free hand, Trowa followed his gaze with his touch. He dragged his fingers over Duo's left arm, letting his nails scrape over the smooth flesh.

Duo shivered at the sensation.

Trowa smirked as he reached Duo's chest and circled one peaked nipple.

Duo met his gaze warily, and then arched upwards with a moan when Trowa pinched him, a little harder than Duo had done to him.

Trowa continued with his inspection of Duo's body, palm firm as it passed over his belly and then the junction of thigh and groin.

Duo shifted just enough that Trowa knew he was sensitive there, and he made a note to return to that spot later.

He stroked down one thigh and up the other before finally turning his attention to Duo's cock.

It bounced with every uneven breath Duo drew in, and when Trowa ran his thumb over the tip, Duo gave a slight thrust of his hips.

Last night had been unexpected in so many ways. Duo sucking him to orgasm had definitely been a highlight.

He lowered his head, deciding to return the favor.

"What happened to looking?" Duo joked when Trowa flicked his tongue out to swipe up the beaded precum. Duo groaned, and his hands flexed against Trowa.

"Would you prefer I keep my hands and mouth to myself?"

Duo gave a strained laugh.

"Hell no. _Please_ no. Sorry I said anything." He lifted his hips again. "As you were."

With a chuckle, Trowa obeyed.

He ran the flat of his tongue over the shaft, and then, moving back up, scraped his teeth against the underside.

" _Fuck_ ," Duo moaned, low and long and so needy.

It felt good, Duo drowning in pleasure and at his mercy.

Trowa took the head of Duo's cock into his mouth, sucking on just that while Duo tried, and failed, to hold still.

A stream of curses and pleas fell from his mouth, and Trowa couldn't help but smirk as he swallowed more, feasting on his cock and cries of pleasure.

" _Jesus fucking-_ Trowa, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, Trowa, please, oh- Oh yes, oh fuck, yes."

Trowa finally released Duo's hands as he sucked on Duo in earnest.

Duo's hands shifted to Trowa's shoulders, cautious at first, and then clinging when Trowa found the right rhythm, moving up and down the length of Duo's cock while the other man encouraged him with words that would have made even Heero blush had he heard them.

He dug his own hands into Duo's hips, half to hold him in place and half to tease out that sensitive spot again.

" _Oh fucking sweet-_ "

He had clearly found it, if Duo's shattered cry and the jerky thrust of his hips was anything to go by.

Trowa couldn't help but enjoy that, and he repeated the gesture until Duo was quivering beneath him.

"God, Trowa, Trowa, I'm close, I'm so fucking close and I'm gonna- Fuck, Trowa, I'm gonna come. I'm-"

Duo trailed off into an unintelligible groan as he came, and Trowa held him steady as he milked Duo's cock.

He slowly eased back, letting Duo's softening cock slip from his lips as he worked to swallow the load.

Duo let him go, and when Trowa looked down at him, the other man's eyes were closed and his arms were thrown wide.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven," Duo laughed, the sound full of ecstasy.

Trowa snorted a laugh.

"The Grim Reaper? In heaven?"

The joke completely ruined the mood. Duo's post-sex languor was replaced with tension, and his unguarded smile became a _very_ thin line.

Trowa sat back on his heels and watched as Duo shrunk into himself.

"What-"

"Sorry." Duo shook his head and offered Trowa a smirk. "We should probably take care of you, huh?" He reached for Trowa, one long-fingered hand curving around Trowa's hip and pulling him back down on top of Duo.

"House rules - what are you in the mood for?"

The words were right,the motions as teasing and confident as before, but the look in Duo's eyes was _not_.

Trowa captured the hand that was working its way down towards his cock.

"Duo, what did I do?"

"Nothing. _Nothing_ ," he repeated when Trowa gave him a look. "Which, you know, we should correct. Because that was one _hell_ of a blowjob, and you deserve-"

"Duo, what did I say?"

The other man gave up on trying to persuade Trowa to return to their amorous pursuits and instead pushed his way free of Trowa.

He shifted to the edge of the bed, sitting up and putting his back to Trowa, and he might as well have been across the world for all the distance he managed to put between them.

Duo sighed.

"It's nothing. I said it was nothing, and I meant it was nothing."

"Nothing wouldn't make you freak out."

"I'm _not_ -" Duo groaned in frustration, and Trowa watched him bend over and cradle his head in his hands. "Fuck. I'm fine. It's _fine_. Do you want to fuck or not?"

There was a coldness to Duo's voice that struck all the wrong chords with Trowa.

"No, I don't," he answered honestly.

Duo snorted in disdain and stood up.

"Fine. Sorry I ruined your night."

He started to walk past, but Trowa caught his wrist and stopped him.

"Tell me what I did wrong."

Duo offered him a bleak sneer.

"Why? You wanna figure out my weaknesses so you can use them against me at the finals table?"

 _That_ was harsh. And uncalled for.

Trowa dropped Duo's wrist as if burned.

Duo stared down at him for one long, painful moment, and then nodded.

"Yeah. Well, thanks again for the head. I guess I owe you one, huh?"

And then he walked out.

Trowa listened to the sounds of Duo descending the stairs and then, a few moments later, the slam of the penthouse's door.

Duo _fucking_ Maxwell.

The Grim Reaper.

It had been a long time since Trowa let himself feel more than physical attraction for someone else. A _long_ damn time since he had wanted to make someone smile just for the sake of seeing their face and eyes light up.

And now, idiot that he was, Trowa Barton was sitting alone in his penthouse at The Sandrock, battling against the urge to chase after a stranger and figure out how to do just that.

-o-

All for now.


End file.
